


Light's Vengeance

by Shadow_Dogma



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Dad Plo Koon, Gen, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Dogma/pseuds/Shadow_Dogma
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn had been a wise and powerful Jedi. A renowned diplomat and a skilled duelist. Kind and compassionate. A truly great man. At least that's what Ahsoka had always been told regarding her Great-Grand Master.After landing 60 some years in the past, she has the opportunity to meet the man. And well...Ahsoka is beginning to think Anakin's opinion had been highly biased. But Ahsoka's got bigger things to worry about than one grumpy Jedi Master. Like the Sith.She can't help but worry about it though, when she keeps running into a young Obi-Wan Kenobi whose wandering around the Temple looking like somebody just kicked his puppy. He's days away from aging out and Jinn is too stubborn to see what's right in front of him. And baby Obi-Wan is just far too adorable okay. But she really doesn't think it's a good idea to take on a padawan right now, what with planning the downfall of the Sith and all.Morai disagrees. She thinks its a wonderful idea.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 361
Kudos: 1142





	1. Now You're Thinking with Portals

“If there are no further matters to discuss, I move to adjourn todays council meeting.” Mace suggested. A quiet murmur of agreement sounded among the councilors.

The meeting had run late today. Master Tahl’s mission had hit a snag early that morning and the situation had only seemed to deteriorate over the course of the day. It’d taken hours to discuss and coordinate a response, their plans often needing adjustments as things worsened. Negotiations were still tense, but they were now moving in the right direction.

“Then adjourned, this meeting is.” Yoda spoke.

As his fellow masters stood at the dismissal, Mace relaxed back into his chair. He was hungry but he wanted to speak with Yoda about Depa’s upcoming Knighthood Trials before he went looking for dinner. His padawan wasn’t quite ready to undergo the trials, but the day was fast approaching, and it was time to start preparing.

Master Piell, not one to linger unnecessarily, was almost to the doors when the Force shrieked a warning. In near perfect unison, the twelve masters spun to face the center of the room, where a swirling portal of blinding light was manifesting. Lightsabers sprung to hands as a tumbled mess of limbs and cloth fell out from the portal. A second later an ivory and green feathered convor came shooting out.

The mysterious portal dissipated as the bird banked straight up to avoid ramming into Master Rancisis. Wary of an attack, none approached as what appeared to be a female togruta, attempted to sort herself out. After a minute and a few quiet, but _very_ colorful curses the togruta managed to untangle her arms and lekku from her white cloak and flop unto her back.

She glared up at the convor as it took to circling around the ceiling. Unsure what it was they’d just witnessed the masters stayed quiet, observing the woman as she lay there. The convor hooted down and her glare seemed to sharpen at that, though it appeared to hold no real heat.

She opened her mouth as if to respond when Master Mundi adjusted his footing, causing the slightest sound of rustling cloth.

The woman’s easy posture tensed into ridged stone. Mace watched as her eyes slid towards their side of the room. Her gaze stopped before even reaching Mundi, instead zeroing in on the sight of Mace’s purple blade. It stayed there just long enough for him to process the blue of her eyes. The next thing he knew she’d thrown herself up off the floor and vaulted over Master Tinn’s head to land perched on the chair he’d just vacated. Ignited in her hands were two sabers of searing white. Her stance was defensive, though he noted the tightly coiled tension her muscles held.

Mace was impressed. He was also worried. She’d gone from leisurely sprawling on the floor to complex acrobatics in less than three seconds. The amount of not only speed and strength required to perform such an act, but the sheer amount of skill, spoke of an experienced warrior. Of a dangerous warrior.

He was relieved to find that her Force signature held no malice. Only confusion. Her eyes darted around the room taking in details. Instead of clarity at the information, her confusion only seemed to grow. After a few more tense seconds and a lingering look at Master Koon, she seemed to either come to a conclusion, or at the least a decision. Relaxing her stance and lowering her guard she took one last look at the council before closing her eyes and speaking.

“I’m going to ask a rather…out of place question…but an answer would be greatly appreciated.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself and asked, “What is today’s date?”

“Telona 8th, 3609 ATC.” Master Nu responds.

Eyes flying open, she sputters. “3609 ATC? But that’s…” Her face soured and her glare turned towards the convor again. “You karking little sithspawn.” She extinguished her blades and clipped them back on her belt before dropping down into the seat she’d commandeered.

The bird finally fluttered down to rest on the arm of the chair its owner(?) occupied. Mace extinguished his own blade as the togruta seemed to have a silent conversation with her bird. The other masters followed suit.

“Tell us who you are, you will.” Master Yaddle spoke. “How you are here, also.”

The togruta frowned, looking to the side before closing her eyes. He could feel her reaching out for the Force. Mace observed that the shatterpoints he normal saw around a person where contradictorily more overwhelming than any he’d ever seen before and almost completely nonexistent. It was as though she held a myriad of paths in every direction, but he had no idea of what those actual paths were.

Pushing those aside for now, he reached out to feel her presence. She was strong in the Force. Not the strongest he’d ever felt, but still very powerful. Her connection was deep. Exceptionally so. And rooted firmly in the light. A light that almost burned as he reached to explore it.

Her communion with the Force ended as her eyes fluttered open. A strange mix of sorrow, joy, and anger swirled in her eyes before it resolved into determination and she spoke.

“I am Ahsoka Tano, and I am from the future.”

Mace held in a sigh. His night was about to get so much longer.

************

Obi-Wan stared at the Yuli noodles on his plate. Despite being one of his favorite dishes the mess hall served, he couldn’t bring himself to eat any. His stomach had been in knots since his encounter with Master Gnost. The older miraluka, had been blunt in his rejection, and it had stung more than usual.

_‘Begging for masters and knights to take you only proves how unfit you are to be a padawan.’_ Had been Master Gnost’s words.

He knew the master was right. It was undignified. But Obi-Wan was running out of time. One week was all he had to find a master. One week and he’d be shipped off to Bandomeer to become a farmer. He was more than willing to give up his dignity to avoid that fate. Obi-Wan Kenobi was not meant to be a farmer.

He had tried gaining the attention of knights and masters the normal way. But none had taken notice of him. It didn’t seem to matter how good his lesson scores were or how skilled his blade work was. So, as time slipped by, he’d taken more and more drastic measures to get them to notice him, until eventually he’d come to the point of just outright asking.

“You need to eat at least some of your dinner.” Bant said from his right interrupting his brooding.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know. But you didn’t eat lunch because you were too nervous to talk to Master Gnost. You can’t skip two meals, Obi. It’s not healthy.”

Obi-Wan sighed but twirled a small forkful of noodles up. He chewed them robotically before swallowing. She sent him a small smile for the effort, though he could tell his friend was still worried.

“Don’t give up hope yet, Obi-Wan. The tournament duel is in two days. You still might catch someone’s eye during that.” Garen Muln brought out, pulling his stolen soup back from Quinlan Vos.

“Rumor is, Master Yoda somehow talked Master Jinn into attending.” The Kiffar said, stealing Garen’s maja juice in retaliation of his lost prize.

“Master Jinn?” Obi-Wan asked in disbelief. “The same Master Jinn who publicly swore to never take another padawan again. That Master Jinn?”

“Yep.”

“He’d never take me.”

“You never know.” Bant, ever the optimist supplied.

“Hey, if all else fails, you can always ask Master Hist.” Quinlan choked out from the headlock Garen had him in.

“That’d be worse than farming.” Garen said, reclaimed drink in hand as he pushed the older boy from his chair.

**************

Stillness hung in the chambers as the masters absorbed what she had told them. Shock was the most prevalent emotion she could feel infusing the Force around her. Though fear and sorrow, even anger, swirled stronger as the minutes ticked by and the masters managed to shake off the numbness, they’d all fallen into. She could tell they believed her. They didn’t want to. But they did.

“Knight Tano thi-“

“I am not a Jedi.” Ahsoka cut off Master Tinn. Her tone came out harsher than she’d intended, but Tinn had be one of the first masters to agree to Tarkin’s demands for her expulsion. Hearing the title from him was…difficult.

“A Jedi, you once were. But a Jedi no more, you say?” Yoda questioned.

“Yes. I chose to leave the order.” Ahsoka responded.

“Tell us why, will you?” Master Yaddle requested. “Disillusioned, angry with this council, I sense you are.”

Ahsoka took a moment to consider the diminutive master and her request. She had only met Master Yaddle a handful of times, when she had taught a unit in some creche class Ahsoka couldn’t even remember the subject of anymore. Having left the High Council long before the Clone Wars had begun, Yaddle hadn’t been involved with her expulsion. It gave Ahsoka a measure of comfort to have someone to focus on who wasn’t tainted by her memories of that ordeal.

Reaching for the Force, she sought guidance. If she had her way, she’d say, ‘ _Kriff these guys_.’ Walk outta the temple again and leave to start her own little army to take on Sidious. But that was reckless Padawan Tano talking. Experienced rebel spy Fulcrum was saying _, ‘You need allies. You can’t afford to alienate such a strong one. You don’t have to agree with everything they believe. You just need to find a middle ground with them.’_

The Force seemed to agree with Fulcrum, whispering to her to tell them. Morai hooted from her shoulder as if to affirm the choice.

“I was framed for a crime I did not commit.” Ahsoka began. “And this council did not stand behind me. You expelled me from the Jedi Order without my entitled trial with the Council of Reconciliation and instead chose to throw me to the senate wolves. Had my master not uncovered the true culprit, or even had he found the evidence a few hours later, I would’ve been convicted and sentenced to immediate execution. I would be dead.”

From the corner of her eye, Ahsoka saw Plo’s hand clench. She hadn’t been shielding much of her mind in an effort to allow the council to sense the truth of her words. He’d undoubtedly felt the bond they shared. Despite having never met her before today, their connection was strong. Weaker than that of a master/padawan bond and weaker still for the distance caused by his lack of familiarity with her, but still far stronger than most. It seemed even time travel couldn’t break a bond formed in the Force.

Plo Koon, contrary to his intimidating stature, was an incredibly caring and gentle soul. He’d likely guessed that as a member of this council, he would’ve been a part of the decision that almost cost a fellow Jedi her life. Knowing he’d done so to someone his future self obviously cared deeply for, would be devastating for the man. 

“And when all was said and done, only one of you apologized.” At this she turned her head away from Yaddle and stared directly into Plo’s eyes. She opened their bond fully. Pushing at him her sense of betrayal and hurt at his part in what happened. But also, her gratitude and forgiveness for being the only one, save maybe Obi-Wan who’d felt deep regret over their actions.

He needed to know that she had not forgotten his part in that whole mess. He needed to know she had forgiven him for it.

He sent back a wave of remorse and gratitude. The masters before her had not yet committed the acts that had stolen her innocence in a way the war never had. But to ensure they never did; they would need to face the mistakes they were on course to make. She would not coddle them.

“You told me it was simply my Trial of Knighthood. I could not accept that reasoning. Not when you refused to acknowledge your own mistakes.” She took a deep breath, expelling the tension that had built in her muscles during the retelling.

“But what happened to me was not the problem. It was a symptom of a much larger one. Our enemy is cunning and far more dangerous than you realize. They are however…” Ahsoka broke off, reconsidering her wording.

“The death of the Jedi Order starts here.” She pointed to the chamber room floors in emphasis, letting the moment drag to get her point across.

“When you expelled me, there were some on this council that had no faith in me. Who disliked my unorthodox master and by extension me. It hurt to see that those I’d looked up to for my entire life, could look at me and think I was capable of committing such a horrible crime. What hurt more? What hurt more was those whose decision was based not on a lack of faith, but a fear of lost reputation in the Senate.” A few masters tired and failed to hide winces. ' _Good. _' Ahsoka thought. Their loyalty to the Senate wasn't yet completely blind.__

____

____

__“This council has lost its way. And if you refuse to change you will only lead the Order further and further astray. The Jedi will weaken and the Sith will use that weakness to destroy you.”_ _

____

____

Ahsoka observed their grim faces in the silence that followed her monologue. She’d been cautious over what to tell them and what not to. Giving great details in some areas and staying vague in others. It would be a careful balance she’d need to hold, if she wished to succeed in her mission. She only hoped that the scarcity of information would not persuade the council to decide to forego her warnings.

____

____

“Hmm.” Yoda hummed sometime later. “Much to think on, we have. Much to discuss. Give us time to do so, you will.”

____

____

“Of course, Master Yoda.” She would give them time. These were decisions that should not be lightly. “I will await your call in the lobby.” Ahsoka bowed slightly, out of habit more than respect, and turned to leave.

____

____

Exiting the chambers, she was relieved to discover the lobby void of any council attendants. She needed time alone to think and meditate. The Force had clearly wanted her here. Wanted her to change things. She’d followed her instincts and the nudges in the Force over what details to tell and what to keep. But she still felt unbalanced and unsure. A deep meditation would do well to center herself while she sought a clearer path forward.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got the basic idea of this after reading Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish. It's a pretty good fic though it is unfinished and hasn't been updated since 2018. I still recommend checking it out. I also highly recommend the Desert Storm series (starting with Desert Storm itself) by Blue_Sunshine. The series has 16 books already done and a 17th in progress. Not only is it a truly massive story, its also probably the best fanfic I've ever read. 
> 
> I was inspired by the above mentioned stories to write my own timetravel-fix-it-fic. This will be a blend of canon, legends, and my own take on the Star Wars universe. I can only hope my story will be even half as good as theirs.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought.


	2. Namesake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out.
> 
> Right after I posted the first chapter the Covid-19 pandemic really broke out here (USA). I work at one of those big department grocery stores. The department I work in usually has a lot of down time, which is when I tend to do most of my writing. But now that everyone is panic buying, work is crazy. I've gotten so many hours and when I'm not doing the work I normally do I'm cleaning or helping other departments. When I get home, I'm so physically exhausted and mentally drained (from customers yelling at me) that I have no motivation to write. My mental health has never been the greatest and I gotta admit it's taken a hit with everything going on. But your guys comments have really helped me finish this chapter. So thank you.

“We keep speaking of what to _do_ with the information she has given, yet we all seem to be forgetting to ask whether we can even _trust_ that information.” Saesee Tiin argued.

Quiet by nature, he generally preferred to observe rather than contribute to council meetings. But he was frustrated that most of his fellow councilors seemed to be taking the stranger’s words at face value.

“We all felt the temporal disruption. There is no doubt she's a time traveler.” Ki-Adi Mundi stated.

“All the more reason to be wary. There’s no telling the damage someone with that kind of foreknowledge could wreak on the past.” Tiin responded.

“I sensed no malicious intent from her.” Yarael Poof countered.

As a master of mind manipulation, he’d spent most of the time Ahsoka was speaking, poking around the minimal shielding she’d held in place. He’d picked up on her general discomfort with the council, but he hadn’t found any ill will directed toward them. Not even at the councilors she seemed to dislike the most. Master Tiin, he noted, had been one such master.

“She’s obviously had extensive training, hiding her intent would hardly be a challenge.” Tiin rebutted.

“It’d only be easy to deceive if her shields were fully in place. For the majority, if not the entirety of our discussion her shields were down.” Madame Nu pointed out.

“Madame Nu is right. It would be quite difficult to lie to _thirteen_ masters simultaneously while in such a vulnerable state.” Sifo-Dyas agreed.

“Difficult, but not impossible.” Even Piell contested.

“She is who she says she is.” Plo Koon finally spoke out, having been silent for most of the conversation. The other masters turned to the Kel Dor.

“Certain of this you are, hmm?” Yoda asked.

“Yes.” He affirmed.

“How?” asked Even Piell.

“We share a bond.”

“A master/padawan bond?” Mace asked surprised.

“I do not believe so.” Plo rejected.

“Could she be of your lineage?” Tera Sinube theorized.

“It’s possible. Though she claimed her master was unorthodox, and none of my former apprentices would currently be considered as such.”

“Perhaps your next apprentice will be.” Oppo Rancisis said, his s sounds drawn out into the hisses produced by all members of his species.

“Perhaps.” Plo conceded.

“What did you sense with your bond?” Mace asked, getting the conversation back on track.

“There is a well of sadness within her.” Plo began, steepling his hands in thought. “She has experienced many hardships. Seen much darkness. But that darkness has not embittered her. Instead it has strengthened her. Her determination is like steel, but it is fed by an abundance of faith and hope. The Light shines brighter in her than any other being I’ve ever come across.”

“Hmm.” Yoda murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.

*************

Ahsoka breathed slowly as her mind drifted deep within the Force. Warm tendrils of light encircled her essence. Some simply embraced her, effusing comfort. Others tugged gently at her thoughts; a soothing guide to the answers she sought.

The Force didn’t always give clear directions. In fact, it often preferred to be rather vague. But despite its soft guiding it was being extremely clear on two things. Her path was to stay and right the wrongs of the past. And to do so, she would need the help of the Jedi.

It was a path Ahsoka wasn’t too sure she wanted to take. The Force had given her a mission, one that she _would_ complete. But the tool that it insisted she use, confounded her.

From a tactical standpoint, using the Jedi to defeat Palpatine made sense. They already had numbers, resources, and influence that would otherwise take Ashoka decades if not longer to amass if she were to start building from scratch. But if twenty plus years in the Rebellion had taught her anything, it was that numbers didn’t win battles. Some of their greatest victories against the Empire came from small insurgency teams. The crew of the Ghost coming to mind.

Ahsoka couldn’t help pondering over the reason why the Force chose to send her _here_. After years of meditation she had come to the realization that the Jedi had, in their blindness forsaken the Light. Those meditations often left her wondering if the Light had chosen to forsake the Jedi in return.

So why here? Why now? Had the Light forsaken them? If not, why wait so long to fix things? Or better yet why let them happen in the first place? But what if the Light had indeed abandoned the Jedi? Why send her back to save them? Ahsoka didn’t know, but she would not make the same mistakes as the Jedi of her time did. She would not forsake the Light as they had. She would follow the Will of the Force. She knew, despite her conviction, it would still likely be a subject she would be meditating on for a long time to come.

A familiar presence brushed the edges of her mind as she distantly heard the swish of the council chamber’s door. Pulling herself from the tendrils of light, Ahsoka took a controlled breath before opening her eyes to look upon the face of Plo Koon.

Earlier she’d been too preoccupied with stressing the importance and gravity of her warnings to the council, she hadn’t truly thought of what it would mean to be this far in the past. Now that she’d had time to calm down. Time to think. The sight of someone she thought she’d never see again was almost unbearable.

She had loved Plo. The only father figure Ahoska could remember. And though he’d hid it, perhaps even from himself, she knew he had loved her as well.

He would not be the only ghost she would have to face. There would be fewer, this far back in the timeline, but one ghost was one more than she thought she’d ever face.

“Apologies to interrupt such a deep mediation, but the council is ready to speak with you.” Plo informed.

Ahsoka nodded in acknowledgement, pushing away her melancholic thoughts. There’d be time enough for that later. Standing she stretched the stiffness out of her muscles and followed Master Plo into the council chambers. Morai settling onto her right shoulder as they passed through the doorway.

Outside the windows she spotted the sun just starting to peek over the Senate dome. Deep in meditation she’d failed to notice that so many hours had passed. The discussion had been long it seemed and it likely wouldn’t be the last the council would be stuck in in the coming weeks.

Ahsoka came to a stop at the center of the room as Plo retook his seat. Glancing around at the masters, she searched their faces for clues to their decision. They were as stoic as she remembered, however. It didn’t help that several of the masters present were ones Ahsoka had never met.

“You’ve brought us grave news.” Master Poof began.

“You’ve also brought us hope. A chance to prevent your past from becoming our future.” Master Sinube said. Ahsoka smiled faintly at the old master, not quite as old as she’d last seen him.

“We now know that a great threat looms in the shadows, but we know little else of our enemy save their return.” Master Mundi continued, and Ahsoka wondered if they’d rehearsed this and given each councilor a line to say.

“We ask for your help, Master Tano.” Ahsoka’s head shot to Master Windu at the title.

“Master?” Ahsoka questioned.

“Change you say we must, to defeat the Sith. Change what and how we do not know. Your help to do so we will need.” Yoda said.

“I’m not a Jedi.” Ahsoka reiterated.

“So you’ve said.” Yaddle responded. “Yet the heart of a Jedi you have.”

She went to protest once more only to pause. Her meditation had been clear about working with the Jedi, and despite her misgivings she’d accepted that there would be a partnership _with_ the Jedi. She just hadn’t thought she’d _be_ a Jedi. Her prolonged silence must’ve given the impression of a refusal, as a Thisspiasian master Ahsoka thought might be Master Rancisis spoke out, hoping to persuade her.

“It is obvious that as we currently are, we cannot stop them. And you, even with all your knowledge cannot stop them alone. We must be united, or we risk falling divided.”

“You will not like what I have to say.” Ahsoka told them. “The changes I will recommend.”

“Healing a wound is not a painless process. It would be presumptuous to think this matter any different.” Madame Nu said.

“Then I accept your offer to rejoin the Order. Though I don’t believe I should be given the rank of master. I was never even formally knighted.”

“Unworthy of the rank of master you think yourself. Yet deep your knowledge of the Force is.” Yoda hummed. “Yes, very deep.”

“You’ve told us little of your past, yet of what we do know is enough. You’ve faced trails greater than most master ever face even after attaining their rank.” Another unfamiliar master spoke, this one a long-haired human with a well-groomed bread.

“I’ve not yet raised a padawan to knighthood.” Ahsoka pointed out.

“While its uncommon to reach the rank of master without a trained padawan, it is not unheard of.” Mace countered. It was a good point, especially coming from a master who’d reached the rank of councilor before having raised a knight. Ahsoka opened her mouth to protest one last time just for the hell of it, when Yoda harrumphed.

“Stubborn you are.”

“Apologies Grand Master. I suppose it’s a trait of my lineage.” Ahsoka said through badly a hidden smirk. Yoda narrowed his eyes, unimpressed but now curious.

“A position in the Order you accepted, with it the rank of master comes.”

“Very well, Master Yoda.” She acquiesced.

“There is one final matter we must discuss before we take our leave.” The long-haired master said. “The knowledge of your past. Of our possible future must remain a closely guarded secret.”

“I agree.” Ahsoka said.

“We will, therefore, require an explanation as to your sudden appearance within the temple.” He continued.

“A previously unknown Master returning to the temple with a past they cannot speak of. The best cover would be as a returning former shadow.” Madame Nu explained.

Ahsoka thought on her words. It would be a good cover story. It might also explain any oddities about her behavior that would otherwise be suspicious. It was rare for a shadow to return to regular temple duties. Rarer still for them to do so before old age (if they lived that long.) The ones that did tended to be a bit odd.

“A new name, you will need.” Yaddle broke in.

Ahsoka winced. She hadn’t thought of that. Currently, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But once Master Plo found little ‘Soka on Shili, it’d be hard enough to explain their physical similarities. They didn’t need to have the same name.

“I suppose I do.”

“Do you have a name you’d prefer, or should we choose one for you?” Master Piell asked.

“Ashla. Ashla Ultio.” Surprise rippled through the councilors.

“A bold name to give yourself.” Master Tiin said, reproach thinly veiled.

“I did not choose it. It was given to me. A long time ago.” At the raised eyebrows she continued. “Perhaps another day I’ll tell you of Mortis. Of the Father. His son the Fanged God. And his daughter.” She looked to Morai still perched on her shoulder. “The Winged Goddess. Maybe then the name will seem less… bold.”

“I believe that will be quite the tale.” Plo cut in before anyone could properly veto her chosen name. “For now, I think we could all use some refreshments and a few hours of rest and meditation.”

“Yes. Many more discussions we’ll have. But time now for rest it is.” Yoda said, nodding to Master Windu who began typing into a data pad.

A second later the council doors swished open and Ahsoka… _Ashla_ turned to find a young Depa Billaba entering the room.

“My padawan here will escort you to your new quarters. Depa has already acquired and delivered some basic supplies. If you need anything further, you’ll need to speak with the current Quartermaster, Master Sageon.”

“Thank you, Masters.” Ashla said bowing her head in respect.

“Thank _you_.” Plo intoned with sincerity. “And welcome home, Master Ultio.”

_Master Ultio._ That would take some getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I hope you all liked it. It definitely wasn't perfect but I'm actually quite proud of this chapter. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments. Leave me a compliment, advice, or even something you might want to see. No guarantees I'll put it in, but I'll see what I can do.


	3. Turbo Lifts and Star Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depa dislikes (hates) mysteries. And elevators. 
> 
> Luminara thinks her friend needs to chill. 
> 
> And Obi-Wan is bad at taking care of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to thank you for the response to this. Reading your thoughts on it was awesome. I'm sorry if I didn't reply to your comment. I read all of them and tired to respond to most. But if I didn't get to yours just know I really appreciated it. 
> 
> Here's the next part. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> P.S.  
> Someone commented in the last chapter that they were worried about this being a Qui-Gon bashing fic and I just wanted to take a moment to say that no, this will not be a Qui-Gon bashing fic. I honestly really like Qui-Gon as a character. But I also recognize that while at his heart he's a good man, he is a deeply flawed individual. So I'm going to treat him like the dynamic character he is. Qui-Gon will be learning some lessons, and many of them will not be fun for him, but they aren't going to be things I just throw in as an excuse to beat on him. 
> 
> I don't really like most bash fics to begin with. Everyone has their reasons for doing the things they do. Their reasoning might not be sound, but they think it is. I believe it's much more interesting to write about what motivates a person to act than just saying he's bad and then "Look! See what he's doing. He's soo evil."

As a senior padawan to a member of the Jedi High Council, Depa Billaba had never had much free time. But with Mace’s recent appointment to Master of the Order and Depa’s upcoming final examines, her free time had become practically non-existent.

Given the current scarcity of her time, Depa had taken to timing and then memorizing various routes around the Temple in an effort to best utilize what little time she _did_ have. Very early on in her quest to find the fastest routes, she had discovered that the Southwestern Spire’s turbo lift was unbelievably slow. In fact, it was _three times_ slower than any other lift in the entire Jedi Temple.

Depa would’ve avoided the lift if she could. But that wasn’t really possible considering the High Council Chambers resided at the top of said spire. On a good day, Depa only needed to use the lift four to six times. On a bad day, it could number well into the thirties.

A Jedi does not hate _,_ but Depa _vehemently dislike_ the Southwestern Spire’s turbo lift.

When the lift had “mysteriously” broken down one day, Depa had been certain that the technicians would get it working at a proper speed again. To her horror, it had been slower than ever.

After that incident, she’d been convinced that the Council had rigged it that way on purpose. Whether as a chance for those called before the Council to center themselves or as a method to throw them off balance, she didn’t know. But they did do it on purpose. She was positive. Master Yoda just looked far too amused for it not to be.

Luminara insisted it was just old.

All of this was to say, that on any other day Depa would be highly annoyed by the slow descent into the temple proper. Today however, was not just any other day. Today she found herself grateful for the extra time to observe the strange master before her.

Depa didn’t know her. Was fairly certain she’d never met her. And the name Ultio did not ring any bells in her head.

It wasn’t exactly uncommon, considering there were thousands of Jedi. But Depa had been a councilor’s padawan for the entirety of her apprenticeship. And most masters were called before the council at least once a year. Or if they were watchmen at least discussed at _some_ point. Which meant it was odd for her not to recognize at least something of the master.

And whatever mission she’d been on had to be important if the debrief had kept the council overnight. Especially after having spent the entire day putting out diplomatic fires.

There was also the matter of the bird perched on her shoulder. Having pets wasn’t explicitly against the rules. But it veered uncomfortably close to the no attachments rule. And the few Jedi that did have pets, were certainly smart enough to not bring it before the High Council.

She would admit it was a pretty bird. Convorees could come in a wide variety of colors, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen those particular shades of pale green and ivory on one before. Depa wondered where she had found it.

As if sensing her thoughts, the convor twisted its head around to stare at her. The bright green eyes burned into Depa’s own dark brown. It was not the unaware gaze of an animal. The eyes held an intelligence that seemed to suggest the bird possessed ancient wisdom. And it felt as if the creature were searching her soul. Unnerved, she turned her observations back to Master Ultio.

She was tall, as most togruta were. Her montrals making her well over 6ft. Her skin was a reddish orange color, with white facial markings that were more intricate than Master Ti's simple ovals or Master Sikrek's blotchy spots. And the blue stripes on her white montrals were jagged in contrast to their more uniformed bands.

Depa couldn’t see much of her outfit beneath the white cloak she wore, but she could tell it was not the plain multi-layered robes worn by many in the order. She wore a long dark grey shirt with geometric designs created by thin white stripes. On her shins and forearms there was what appeared to be silver armor that looked suspiciously like beskar. Her vambraces were painted with blue highlights but the greaves and sabatons remained unmarked save for a few battle scratches.

Depa had to wonder why the master wore it. Afterall, armor had not been worn by the Jedi in centuries.

Curiosity piqued, she shifted forward in hopes of catching sight of a lightsaber, but the cloak was pulled in tight and all she got was a flash of silver before movement covered it up.

_Movement_.

Blinking, Depa looked up to see blue eyes bright with amusement and a badly hidden smirk. She flushed realizing she’d been asked a question and subsequently caught staring after she failed to respond.

“Apologies Master, it appears that I’m not yet fully awake.”

“It’s alright padawan. I merely asked what apartment the quartermaster placed me in.” Her voice was light with a playful humor to it, Depa wasn’t expecting. There were many togruta within the order, but Masters Ti and Sikrek were the only ones Depa had much contact with. And both had such quiet reserved tones.

“Apartment 501.” Depa responded glad the master was more amused than irritated by her impolite gawking.

“501?” Master Ultio asked, surprise coloring her voice.

“Yes. Is there something… wrong? Would you prefer a different apartment?”

It’d take a while to have everything packed up and moved to a new one but Depa was willing to see to it. Though she was a little confused as to why it mattered. Most the apartments at the Temple had the same general layout.

“No, nothing wrong. Just… not what I was expecting.” She responded as the turbo lift finally came to a stop. She didn’t elaborate any further as they stepped out into the hall.

“My master asked me to escort you to your apartment, but if you’d rather find your way on your own?” Depa offered.

The togruta looked to her feathered companion and asked, “What do you think, Morai?” _Morai_ hooted before fluttering down on top of Depa's shoulder. She stiffened, and Ultio laughed.

“Well I guess that’s settled.” She turned to Depa, easy smile in place. “I’d appreciate the company if you aren’t too busy. I've been away from the Temple for… a very long time. I’d hate to get lost my first day back.”

“Certainly, Master.” Depa responded.

Morai stayed on Depa’s shoulder as they made their way down the corridor towards the residents’ wing. Her shoulders relaxed the longer they walked as she got accustomed to the unfamiliar weight. The bird’s gaze continued to unsettle though, and Depa was in the middle of figuring out how to ask the togruta to take her pet back when she spoke.

“So, who’s the current Chief Librarian?” Master Ultio asked.

“Madame Nu.” She responded distractedly.

“Really? She still has her seat on the council.” Ultio said.

“I believe she’s waiting to step down until her replacement for the Council of First Knowledge is ready to take over.”

“Hmm.” She hummed in thought. “Would that be Master Ti?” She asked.

“You know Master Ti?” Depa shifted her focus from the convor and grasped at the possible lead.

Master Ultio shook her head. “Not personally. But I know of her.”

“Oh.” Depa deflated a bit. She wasn’t deterred though. If she knew of Master Ti, it was possible that Master Ti would know of her.

“And the current Battlemaster?”

“Master Bondara.” Depa said as they came to the intersection that divided the initiate dorms from the Masters’ and Knights’ apartments.

Morai perked up and tilted her head, listening. Finding whatever it was she’d been searching for, she gave an excited hoot and jumped into the air, flitting off down the left corridor and quickly disappearing around the corner.

“Umm… your pet just flew off.” Depa informed, glad the strange bird wasn’t perched on her anymore but worried that they’d now have to chase the thing across the Temple.

“Morai isn’t a pet. She's a friend.”

“Right. Shouldn’t we go get your… friend?” Depa asked. Master Ultio waved a hand in dismissal and continued on down the hall in the opposite direction.

“She’ll find me whenever she pleases.”

_‘Oh no. She another Qui-Gon Jinn_.’ Depa thought.

She could already feel a headache forming. Master Jinn had a horrible habit of bringing home stray animals and plants that inevitably got loose and caused damage that Depa always seemed to get stuck cleaning up.

She sighed, resigning herself to her fate, before hurrying to catch up to the Master already several paces ahead.

The rest of the walk was spent in relative silence. Master Ultio staring around the halls with a strange melancholic awe as Depa lead them to the apartment. She was unsure what to think of the master’s strange reactions and was unwilling to distract her from whatever memories she was reliving.

When they finally reached the apartment there was a temple guard waiting. He held several cards and single use data pads in his hands.

“Master Ultio.” He addressed with a bow which she returned. “Here is your new Ident card, a credit chip, and your new access codes.”

Depa raised an eyebrow as the offered items were taken. Access codes were to be changed every 3 months, but masters were usually in charge of changing them themselves. To need the Council to issue new ones for you, meant you’d been away from network access for at least 3 months. Or you were terrible at remembering to change them before they expired.

To need a new Ident card meant you had been away from Republic Space for over five years.

“Thank you.” Master Ultio said.

“Master Salihn has also requested that you visit the halls of healing for a checkup as soon as possible.” He informed.

“Master Salihn is the current Chief Healer?” She asked for clarification.

“Yes.”

“Then please let Master Salihn know I’ll be there within the hour.”

The guard bowed and left to attend his other duties. Master Ultio turned to Depa then.

“Thank you, for escorting me. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

“I was happy to help, Master.”

“Well either way, I’m grateful for the company. It’s… nice to be back.” She said, a strange sort of happy/sad tone that seemed to fit the melancholy she’d displayed on their walk.

“You’re welcome.” Depa said, not sure how else to respond.

“I should let you get back to your duties. May the Force be with you, padawan.”

“And with you, Master”

They bowed farewell to each other before the Master reached for the door panel. She sent Depa a parting smile as she stepped through the door.

Thoughts swirling, Depa continued to stare long after the door had swished shut. Ultio was the strangest master Depa had ever met.

She had heard the respect in Master Koon's voice as he bid her farewell. Yet something about her felt nothing like any other Jedi Depa had met. She certainly didn’t dress like a Jedi.

Master Ultio was a mystery. A mystery Depa was eager to figure out.

Shaking herself, Depa left for the library. She was already late meeting Luminara, a few moments more to do some light research wouldn’t hurt.

************

Balancing a tray with breakfast for two in one hand and a stack of data pads in the other, Luminara made her way into the eastern star room. The earliness of the hour meant it was likely to be empty for a while. Most of her fellow Jedi had yet to awaken. And the nocturnal inhabitants had all most likely gone off to bed.

Believing the room to be vacant and too focused on not spilling the contents of her arms, Luminara was half across the room before she looked up and saw Obi-Wan Kenobi sitting cross legged in front of the first bench of the stadium seating.

Startled, she let out a squeak as the precariously balanced tray began tilting to the side. In a flash, the younger boy was at her side, righting the tray before taking it out of her hands all together. He set it down on the bench he’d previously been leaning against.

“Apologies, Padawan Unduli. I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s quite alright Initiate Kenobi. I shouldn’t have assumed the room was empty.”

Master Thallan, if he were here, would’ve scolded her for her lack of awareness. Especially since Obi-Wan was the loudest broadcaster in the Temple. If he didn’t shield his emotions well enough, you could feel them from three halls away. He wasn’t shielding very well today, Luminara noted.

“It was a reasonable assumption, given the lateness of the hour.” Obi-Wan responded, politely giving her an out. Though the wording did more to confuse her than absolve her of her embarrassment.

“You mean the earliness?” Luminara corrected.

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed as his eyes sought the chrono on the wall.

“Oh.”

He’d been there all night, Luminara realized. He looked it too. His normally pristine robes were wrinkled and coming untucked. And dark circles had formed under his eyes, making his normally pale skin look unnaturally sickly.

His tired blue eyes flicked down to the pads in her hands, before he began straightening his attire.

“Apologies. I should get cleaned up before class starts.” He said heading for the door.

Luminara watched him pass by and couldn’t help noticing how thin he’d gotten. He’d never been the best at feeding himself, but it was obvious that he’d only gotten worse at in recent weeks. No doubt the stress was getting to him. A glance at the food sitting on the bench and Luminara found herself calling out gently.

“Obi-Wan.” He turned. “Would you care to join me for breakfast? I was supposed to meet Depa here to study, but she commed me a few minutes ago to tell me she’d be late. I fear that the food will be too cold by the time she makes it. And I’d hate to let this all go to waste.”

The younger boy stood still, his desire to run away warring with his need to be polite.

“I’d appreciate the company.” She pushed. It was a dirty move to pit his manners against himself, but Luminara felt it was justified.

His politeness won out, as Luminara thought it would and he made his way back to the bench. He settled to the left of the tray, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged. Luminara sat on the other side of the tray, ankles crossed. She handed him one of the bowls of porridge, before grabbing one for herself.

She didn’t actually think Depa would be so late that the food would be inedible, but Obi-Wan obviously needed the food more than her. Depa had been so bogged down with duties lately that she wouldn’t dare miss a meal for fear it would mess up her precious schedule. But Obi-Wan wouldn’t eat unless he was forced to. And since Bant hadn’t already found him, it’d be at least lunch until he got something in his stomach. 

“What are you here to study?” He asked.

“I have a project about the Hydian Hyperlane for Astronavigation. Depa volunteered to help me study for it, since Master Thallan is helping Master Gallia with the negotiations in the senate.”

Obi-Wan twirled his spoon in thought. Not really eating. He obviously wanted to ask her something but wasn’t sure if he should. Between bites of food Luminara explained the project she was working on, hoping that Obi-Wan would speak when he was ready. It took a good fifteen minutes before he finally did; just as she was beginning to run out of things to monologue on.

“Luminara, how did Master Thallan choose you to be his padawan?”

“It’s a tradition among Mirialan Jedi to apprentice under another Mirialan. As an initiate, I knew that if I was chosen as a padawan, there were only a handful of masters that were likely to be mine. By the time I was of age, there were only two available to accept an apprentice. Master Thallan and Master Faendal.”

“Oh.” It was not what he wanted to hear.

“But just because I knew who I _could_ be chosen by, didn’t mean that I _would_ be chosen. A master/padawan bond is sacred. If there is no connection before the bond is created, it could make it harder to build one. And has in the past led to difficult or even disastrous apprenticeships.” She explained.

“So, you and Master Thallan had a connection?” He asked.

“Both masters visited me from time to time and while I do believe Master Faendal and I could have eventually built a strong bond, my connection to Master Thallan developed rather quickly.”

“What would’ve happened if they’d had padawans already? Or if they didn’t feel a connection?”

“I suppose if not them, I’d have found a master elsewhere. While it its tradition for Mirialans to train under other Mirialans, it is not a rule. Though many non-mirialan masters are hesitant to take on a one out of respect for the tradition. I probably would have had to wait a few more years before other master started taking an interest in me. There was also the possibility that I’d have been chosen by no one.”

He nodded in understand, shoveling a spoonful of the porridge into his mouth absentmindedly as he thought over her words.

“What… what Service Corp would you have gone into? If you… if you hadn’t been chosen?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I think I would have done well in the MedCorps but I’m not sure where they would have placed me.”

He let out a sigh and sat the half eating bowl aside to fiddle with a buckle on his boot.

“I… um. I got my assignment yesterday. I’m to report to Bandomeer in a ten-day.”

Bandomeer meant the AgriCorps. Obi-Wan Kenobi _was not_ meant to be a farmer. If he was to go to the Service Corps they should have at least sent him to the ExplorCorps.

“After I got it, I went and asked Master Gnost if he’d train me.” Luminara hadn’t even know Master Gnost had returned. “He said… he said that begging to be a padawan only proved that I was unfit to be one. And I know… I know that I shouldn’t have ambushed him in the hanger right after he’d just gotten back. I know that I should be patient. That the will of the force will provide. But… I don’t want to be a farmer. I’m not meant to be a farmer. I’m meant to be here. I know I am.”

“A preliminary assignment to one of the Corps isn’t final. You still time have time to be accepted as a padawan.” He shook his head at her words.

“The masters and knights, they used to visit. Watch me spar. Listen in on a lesson or two. Spend a few minutes talking. But none of them ever came back. They only ever looked once. Then they stopped looking at all.” He shrugged. “So, I went to them. But now…”

Luminara set her bowl aside to face the younger boy with her full attention. Reaching over she rested a hand on his fidgeting ones, and waited until his eyes met hers before speaking.

“I don’t think you’ll find a master.” Hurt and betrayal flooded the room before Obi-Wan could tighten his shields. “I think that your master _will find you_.” She gave his hands a gentle squeeze.

“I have every faith that one day you, Obi-Wan Kenobi will be a great Jedi knight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that.
> 
> Shout out to MartinTello15 for asking for some Luminara and Obi-Wan interaction. I hope you liked their scene. 
> 
> If anyone else has something they'd like to see, post it in the comments or send me a message. No guarantees but I'll see what I can do about putting it in.
> 
> Thanks again guys!


	4. Rumor Has It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan makes a new friend.  
> Yoda is determined to have Obi-Wan in his lineage.  
> Dective Billaba is on the case.  
> Madame Nu is gossip girl.  
> And Healer Che thinks the Jedi should invest in protective bubbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this completed a week and a half ago, but I started editing and the next thing I knew, I'd rewritten two thirds of the chapter. So, I'm sorry this took so long, but I really do believe this is much better than what I had before. It's also almost two times longer than my last chapter. Enjoy!

Obi-Wan felt better after his talk with Luminara. Her quiet yet confident words had done more to calm his frazzled nerves than all of Bant and Quinlan's reassurances combined.

His friends were always quick to defend and support him. Which he was grateful for. But sometimes it felt like their faith in him was only there _because_ they were his friends. And not because he’d earned it through hard work and skill.

Luminara was different. She was a padawan for starters. A _real_ one, who’d gone on _real_ missions. Bant was still an initiate like him. And while Quinlan _was_ a padawan, Master Tholme had yet to take him on any off-world missions.

Padawan Unduli, (likely to be Senior Padawan Unduli soon, if the rumor mill was to be believed) was far wiser and more experienced than anyone else in their friend group. Except for of course Padawans Billaba and Fisto, who were both quickly approaching their Trials.

Luminara was also far more reserved than the others. Preferring to observe and listen to what was being said rather than speak herself. When she did speak the words were always carefully measured.

And while kind and gentle, she was not one for empty platitudes for the sheer sake of making someone feel better. If Luminara didn’t truly believe he belonged here, she wouldn’t have told him he did.

Obi-Wan greatly valued her opinion, so to hear that he wasn’t alone in his belief that he was supposed to be a Jedi, meant a great deal to him.

Because Obi-Wan _was_ meant to be a Jedi. He _knew_ he was. He could _feel_ it in that special place within his soul. The one that connected him to the wider galaxy. That connected him to the Force.

But if he was meant to be a Jedi, why hadn’t he been chosen yet? Had Luminara and him both misinterpreted the feeling? Was it _really_ his destiny?

“Hoot!”

Obi-Wan blinked as his thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a bird calling.

“Hoot! Hoot!”

It came again. Where…

“Hoot!”

His clear blue eyes fell to meet a pair of glowing green.

“Hoot!”

Not even a foot away sat a green and ivory convor with shimmering gold wings.

“Hello there.” He said, kneeling down to its, _her_ level.

“Hoot.”

“May I pet you?” He asked, holding out a hand.

“Hoot.”

The convor hopped closer and nuzzled her head into his palm. Taking that as permission, he stroked down her back admiring the silkiness of the feathers. As he did so, a feeling of calm washed over him.

_Odd_ , he thought. Then again he’d always had a strong connection to animals. Perhaps he was just picking up the feelings the animal was giving off.

“I’ve never seen you around the Temple before. You must be new.”

The bird was very beautiful and he was positive he would’ve remembered it if he’d seen her in the Temple gardens before.

“Are you lost?” He asked.

“Hoot.”

“I thought so.”

He wondered where she’d come from. If he had to bet, he’d say Master Jinn. He was always bringing back stray animals and plants. It wouldn’t be the first time one had gotten loose.

“Why don’t we see if we can find who you belong to.”

He held out his arm, inviting the bird to perch there. She tilted her head a few times before flapping up to rest on the limb and gently dug her talons in. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough so she wouldn’t fall off if jostled.

Keeping his arm steady, Obi-Wan stood. He watched the convor settle on his arm, seemingly content with its situation. As much as he did want to leave his strange new friend, he hoped finding her owner wouldn’t take long. Master Drallig wouldn’t tolerate him being late for class.

*************

“You seem troubled this morning, Master.” Qui-Gon told Yoda.

“ _Seem_ , hmm? Troubled, I _am_.” Yoda stated from his hover chair that floated alongside his grand padawan.

They were headed toward the Room of a Thousand Fountains. During his last assignment, Qui-Gon had recovered Gillypod seeds that he wanted to plant near one of his favorite meditation spots. Yoda had insisted on tagging along, wishing to speak with him. He hadn’t said what the conversation was to be about, but Qui-Gon suspected it had something to do with the upcoming tournament. Though seeing his grand master’s countenance, he may be wrong in that assumption.

“What is it that causes you concern?”

“Growing a great darkness is.” Yoda confessed.

“A great darkness?” Qui-Gon asked, his brow furrowing. “I’ll admit the Force has felt a little cloudy these last few years, but I’ve not sensed a threat.”

“Hidden within the fog, it has been. But revealed to the Council last night it was.” Yoda shook his head, ears drooping. “Coming something is. Prepare the Jedi must.”

“What exactly are we to prepare for? Who or what is this darkness?” He asked.

“Know we do not.” Yoda admitted.

“How can we prepare if we don’t know what enemy it is, we face?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Such little faith have you, my grand padawan? Uncertain the future is. Yet hope there always is. Patient we must be. Trust in the Force we will. And our new ally.”

“New ally?” Qui-Gon asked confused.

Before Yoda could respond, they were approached by Initiate Kenobi carrying the most unusually colored convor Qui-Gon had ever seen. He bowed to the masters as best he could without dislodging the bird from its perch on his arm.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, masters.” Kenobi said.

“Unimportant it was.” Yoda waved off. “Enjoy your company _we_ do.” Qui-Gon suppressed his sigh of exasperation.

“Um… Thank you, Master Yoda.”

“Introduce us to your new friend, will you?” Yoda asked.

“Right. I uh… I found her near the Star Room. I thought it might be yours Master Jinn?” The boy said, holding his arm out closer to Qui-Gon as if offering him the bird.

“I don’t recall ever having brought a convor back to the Temple.” Qui-Gon said.

“Oh.” Kenobi said, uncertain.

Unable to resist investigating the unusual creature, Qui-Gon brought his hand out to stroke the bird’s back. As his fingertips brushed the silky feathers, his senses were overwhelmed with a rush of _warmth, peace, and calm_. Intrigued, Qui-Gon reached out with his Force presence, and found mental shielding around animal’s mind.

Surprised he gently prodded the barrier, looking for a crack. After a few unsuccessful pokes, a blinding presence filled his mind and an otherworldly voice boomed between his ears.

_‘Cease your intrusion. Or I will.’_

Blinking, he pulled his presence back. The convor hooted irritably at him until he removed his hand as well. It hopped closer to Initiate Kenobi’s chest, before settling down. Yoda chuckled at the exchange.

“Finally find an animal that likes you not, did you Master Jinn?” Yoda chuckled. Qui-Gon did sigh this time.

“Um…” Kenobi began awkwardly, unsure what to do with Yoda’s teasing. “If it’s not yours Master Jinn, do either of you happen to know whose it might be?”

“A friend of Master Ultio’s she is.” Yoda said.

Qui-Gon made a note to track down this Master Ultio to ask her where she’d found such a bird.

“Busy with the healers she is. Keep her friend company you should.” Yoda continued.

“Right… I was on my way to Master Drallig’s class.” He informed, hinting.

Foolish. Yoda was very adept at ignoring hints he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Then hurry off you should. Late you should not be.” Yoda told him.

“Of… Of course, Master Yoda.” He said half bowing to them before turning to leave. He stared at the bird as he wandered away. No doubt wondering how he was meant to practice his katas with the thing glued to his arm.

“A great Jedi Initiate Kenobi will be.” Yoda said once the boy was out of earshot. Qui-Gon barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Here we go again_.

“That boy has too much anger. In the last three months, he’s gotten into four fights with Initiate Chun. He isn’t ready to be a padawan, and with only a week before he ages out, I doubt that will change.” He argued.

“Say thus you do. Yet tabs on him you keep.” Yoda pointed out.

“Everyone in the Temple is aware of their rivalry.” He defended.

“A master of the Living Force you are. Yet ignore it’s will you do.” Yoda admonished. “Adamant the Force is that he be trained.”

“If that were true, he’d already be a padawan.” Qui-Gon insisted.

“Waiting for the right master he is.”

“I am not taking another padawan. Least of all him.” He stated.

“Many years it has been my grand padawan. Time to let go of Xanatos it is.” Yoda said, much gentler than his previous words.

“I will not train the boy. And that is my final word on the matter.” Qui-Gon snapped. He stalked off down the hall leaving Yoda behind.

Yoda watched the man disappear around a corner. Stubborn Qui-Gon Jinn was, like his master, Yan Dooku. And like he himself was. Sighing Yoda took off toward his meditation chambers. Stubborn his entire lineage was.

_Stubborn_. Like Ashla Ultio. Ultio who’d called him grand master with a twinkle in her eye. Perhaps it was a different master young Kenobi has been waiting for.

****************

Depa stared at the screen, fascinated by the lack of information it displayed. She’d found a first name. That was… something. And an age. But besides that, a species, rank, and apartment number, all of which she already knew, there was no other information recorded.

No mission reports. No Knighting date. No lineage tree. Not even a creche clan was listed.

All the information normally found in a Jedi’s file was missing. It was bizarre. The Jedi archivists after all, were meticulous record keepers. And none more so than Madame Nu. Depa highly doubted that the information had been simply misplaced.

So, did that mean it was purposely removed? And if so, why? Redacting mission reports was one thing, but virtually an entire profile? That was unheard of. Not unless she were a… _hmm_.

But how to the find evidence to support the theory?

Glancing around Depa caught sight of Padawan Muln, slouched a few terminals away looking very uninterested in whatever it was he was studying.

“Garen _._ ” She stage whispered, fearful of speaking too loudly and incurring Madame Nu's wrath.

“Yeah?” He replied distractedly.

“Fancy a bit of slicing?” She asked.

The younger boy instantly perked up at the mention of one of his favorite hobbies. Piloting was still his specialty but he’d taken a shine to slicing in the last few months. Practicing the skill whenever he had free time, he’d quickly become the best slicer in their group.

Quinlan was a close second, but the Kiffar often lacked the patience needed to learn the more complex techniques.

“What do you need sliced?” He asked coming over to stand beside her chair. “Master Ashla Ultio?” He read over her shoulder. “Never heard of her.”

“Neither had I until this morning. Master Windu had me escort her to her new apartment.”

“There’s hardly any info here.” He noted.

“I think it might have been removed. That’s what I was hoping you’d help me with.” She said. Garen frowned.

“I’m a decent slicer, but I’m no were near skilled enough to slice into the classified files. And definitely not skilled enough to do it without getting caught.” He said.

“I don’t want you to slice the classified files. I just want you to tell me when this was last edited.” If Depa's suspicion was correct, the information wouldn’t even be in the classified files.

“Oh. Well that’s easy enough.” He said.

Leaning over her shoulder to reach the keys, he began typing. It wasn’t long before a console box popped up and filled the screen with lines of code. Depa understood only about half of it.

Like most Jedi, she had taken a few courses on computers and slicing, but hadn’t pursued the discipline any further. Preferring a more hands on approach to investigations. She may need to rethink that decision.

Garen’s short padawan braid fell over his shoulder and he absentmindedly brushed it back as he punched in lines of code.

He bore the standard yellow bead given to a padawan when they’re first chosen and the red and blue beads that denoted him as a pilot and mechanic.

Depa herself wore the yellow bead as well as the red one given to those who were promoted to senior padawan. Additionally, she wore a second yellow bead and a green bead to denote her dedication to lightsaber combat and her study of the Living Force.

After a few minutes of typing an administrator’s portal appeared. Garen made a couple more clicks before the editing feature opened up. They both gave pause at the date last edited.

“Huh.”

“So, it was last edited this morning.” Depa said.

“It wasn’t just edited this morning.” Garen pointed to the top corner of the screen. “This file was _created_ , this morning.”

The boy’s eyes met Depa’s own. Confusion evident in the brown orbs.

“What does this mean?” He asked.

“When I spoke with her, she told me she’d been away from the Temple for a long time. I got the impression that it’d been at least a decade. And when we reached her room, a guard was waiting with a stack of official documents and IDs. I’d thought she’d either lost them or they’d expired, but if this profile was created today? I think her entire identity might have been as well.” Depa extrapolated.

“Why would she need a new identity?” Garen asked.

“If her old one had been erased or compromised by deep cover work.”

Garen raised a brow. “Deep cover? You think she was a Shadow?” Depa shrugged.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Unless she just appeared out of thin air and the Council decided to make her a Master.”

“That would never happen.”

***********

Jocasta couldn’t help but smile as she observed Padawans Billaba and Muln theorize over Master Ultio. The Council had chosen well when deciding who would escort the woman to her new quarters.

Depa had always been a deeply curious soul. Always questioning. Always searching. They knew she wouldn’t be able to resist investigating the mysterious new master.

Curious as she was Depa was not one to gossip. She was however friends with Padawan Vos. It was only a matter of time before the whole Temple heard the rumor of a returned Shadow.

“What has the padawans so excited this early in the morning?” Came a soft familiar voice.

“Padawan Muln and Billaba are about to start a rumor.” Jocasta replied.

“Given your smile, I take it the rumor is one of your design?” Shaak Ti asked her former mentor.

“It is indeed.”

The padawans bickering over their findings, were completely unaware of the two masters watching them.

“So, may I hear this rumor now? Or must I wait for it to pass through the ranks?” Shaak asked.

“An ex-Shadow has returned to the fold.” Jocasta informed.

Shaak raised a brow in surprise. A Shadow’s return was usually kept quiet. Transitioning back to Temple life was difficult for many ex-Shadows. It was often better to allow them to slowly reintegrate, than to bombard them with the well-meaning but overwhelming inquiries of their fellow Jedi.

“Why would we start a rumor about a returned Shadow?” She asked.

Jocasta looked away from the children and into her protégé’s eyes, debating with herself, before inclining her head towards her office and walking away. Giving a final glance at the padawans, Shaak Ti moved to follow her former master.

The chief librarian’s office was decorated much the same as the rest of the library. The same tan marble floors and walls with shelves full of datapads and holobooks, the odd trinket or artifact interspersed. The biggest difference was the desk made of real wood and the handcrafted rug beneath it.

Neither spoke until both were seated with the door shut and locked behind them.

“I can’t give you very many details. The Council wishes to play this close to the vest. But I will tell you what I can.” Jocasta explained.

“I appreciate your confidence in me either way.” Shaak knew that the Council likely didn’t want Jocasta to tell her anything.

“Yesterday evening, Master Ashla Ultio appeared at the Temple rather suddenly. And she brought with her very important news. The Council spent the entire night discussing the information, and her… situation. We decided it would be best if she were to remain here, rather than return to the field.”

“So, what is the purpose of the rumor?” Shaak asked.

“Make no mistake, the rumor is in fact true. Master Ultio is a former Shadow. But the circumstances surrounding her mission are… unique. The Council thought it wise to create a distraction so if someone noticed any… oddities, it could be passed off as a quirk of her time away.”

Shaak frowned at the explanation. The Council wanted Master Ultio's mission details kept secret. It seemed counter-productive to then draw attention to her status.

“I’m aware that without the full details, this decision seems nonsensical. But until the Council gives me permission to tell you, you’ll likely only grow more confused.” Jocasta warned.

“Then I shall endeavor to have patience and trust in yours and the Council’s judgment.”

“Good.” Jocasta said. “Then I have a task for you in relation to this.”

“Of course, Master. What would you have me do?”

“I want you to keep an eye on her. And report to me what you observe.” Jocasta requested.

“Do you not trust her?”

“It is not a matter of trust. Master Ultio has sacrificed much for the Order. For the galaxy. But sacrifices can be a heavy burden to bear. And she has born it alone for a very long time.” She said.

“How long has she been way from the Temple?” Shaak asked.

“About twenty-six years.”

“Twenty-six years? How has she been receiving her mission assignments?”

“She hasn’t. Shaak I don’t think you understand… Master Ultio has been on the same mission for nearly three decades.” Jocasta clarified.

Twenty-six years. Almost three decades spent on one assignment. The longest Shaak had heard of anyone being on assignment was five years. And Master Rohem had been a mess after it. It had taken the mind healers years to stabilize him. He still refused to leave the Temple to this day.

“Do you fear she has fallen? Or that she will fall?” Shaak asked. It was a tragically common fate for many Shadows.

“No. She has not fallen. Nor do I believe she will.” Jocosta declared with confidence. “But she has had little to no contact with another Jedi in so long, I question where her true loyalties lie.”

“You question her loyalty to the Order but you’re confident she remains in the light?” Shaak asked, confused.

“I think you will understand my confidence once you meet her yourself.”

***********

The job of a healer was one Ashla had a great amount of respect for. Perhaps more so than any of the Jedi of this era.

She’d seen firsthand the sacrifices they were willing make. Both physically and mentally. How with every battle fought they pushed themselves harder and harder in the hopes of saving one more life. And how with every life lost, the weight they bore grew heavier and heavier.

She’d seen what happened when they broke.

Her admiration of the healers did not mean she enjoyed being in their halls. In fact, Ashla despised the halls of healing. She’d spent more than her fair share of time in hospitals during the two and a half decades she’d been at war. And few of her memories associated with them were pleasant.

If she could’ve avoided seeing the healers today, she would’ve. But the intake examination was mandatory for all new inhabitants of the Temple. And unlike most members of her lineage, Ashla knew not to cross a healer.

Anakin had on numerous occasions been drugged and forcibly restrained because he'd refused to follow Kix's bedrest orders. Master Obi-Wan, however, had rather quickly become adept at dodging the 212th's medic's attempts to sedate him. Patches had eventually turned to Commander Cody for help, who Obi-Wan was not quite as adept at escaping.

So, weary of being hunted down and sedated, Ashla had made sure to arrive at the halls well before the appointed hour. She now awaited her fate in one of the exam rooms.

The room was decorated with warm neutral tones. Cream linens adorned the exam table and a pale-yellow flower sat in the window sill. The tan marble walls, imbued with the Lightside of the Force, leaked a calming aura. Every aspect of the room was designed to comfort and sooth those in pain.

It was a stark contrast to the sterile clinical feel of the Kaminoan designed med centers on the Resolute, or the chaotic grimy mess of the hastily prepared tents the Rebellion so often used.

The inviting atmosphere did little to actually calm Ashla's nerves. A med center was a med center, no matter how you dressed it up. They were meant to be places of healing, but to the too young child soldier still within her, this was a place of death.

Her morose thoughts were interrupted when the door finally swished open. A young Twilek healer with blue skin and light grey robes entered the room, a data pad under arm. It took Ashla a moment to place her as the future Chief Healer.

“Master Ultio, I presume?” She asked.

“That would be me.”

“I’m Healer Knight Vokara Che. I’ll be administering your exam today.” She said taking a seat on the stool across from her. “Before we begin, are there any health concerns you have that you’d like me to address?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“Good.” Che crossed her legs and rested the pad on her knee. “I’ve been informed that you’re recently returning to the Temple after a rather long stint as a Shadow and as such have no medical history on file. So, we will need to create one to the best of our abilities. And hope that in the future, when administering any medical procedures, we don’t accidentally kill you.”

“That _would_ be a pretty lame way to die.” Especially after everything Ashla _had_ survived.

“Given your status as an ex-Shadow,” Ignoring her terrible attempt at a joke, the healer continued. “I can’t know nor do I want to know the details surrounding any of your classified missions unless they directly relate to an injury we are discussing. However, if anything does slip out, I want to assure you that what is said in this room, stays in this room.”

“Now, with that out of the way,” Healer Che begin. “What is your full name?”

“Ashla Ultio.”

“Species?”

“Togruta.”

“Planet of origin?”

“Shili.”

“Village?”

“Classified.”

“Hmm.” Che murmured, skipping a few questions she knew she wouldn’t get a straight answer to. “Date of birth?”

“Kelona 7th, 3568 ATC.”

Healer Che looked up, her eyes running over Ashla's lekku and montrals. She noted something down, before asking the next question.

It went on like that for ten minutes or so until Healer Che, seemingly satisfied, set aside her data pad in favor of a hand scanner. Ashla was more than glad to move on from twenty questions.

“Please stand.” Healer Che instructed.

Ashla complied, and before further instruction could be given, lifted her arms away from her sides and spread her feet. Che gave her a look, but continued the exam without a word. Scanning each individual limb before coming back to scan her torso and head.

That done, Ashla reclaimed her seat as Che uploaded the scans to the server to process, before turning to prepare a needle for a blood sample. Ashla watched as the needle was inserted into her arm and the vial filled with her blood. The red color was just a few shades darker than a human’s.

The vial was then placed in a centrifuge to process. After cleaning up, Healer Che retook her seat to await the results.

“While we wait, I’d like to discuss a few concerns I have.”

“Alright.” Ashla replied warily but unsurprised. There’d be a lot more to discuss once the results processed.

“Your lekku are a bit shorter than they should be for a Togruta of your age.” Che stated.

“That would probably be due to malnutrition during my adolescence. I spent a significant amount of my teenage years in a war zone. My master tried to keep me well fed, but it wasn’t uncommon for the supply lines to be cut off without warning. Once the regular food was gone, all we’d have left were rations. Which were designed for a human’s dietary needs, and not the high protein needs of a Togruta.” Ashla explained.

“This war zone, did it happen to have a lot of heavy artillery?” Che asked, a pensive look on her face.

“Yeah. _A lot_ of heavy artillery.”

“I won’t know anything for sure until the scans come back, but I suspect the slight bulging where your montrals and lekku meet is due to scarring around your cochlea bone. A result of repeated exposure to loud noise.”

“There is some scarring.” Ashla confirmed.

“Have you experienced any noticeable loss of hearing? Or any persistent ringing?” Che asked.

“No. But I’m aware that it’s a possibility as I get older.”

“You seem to be fairly informed about your condition.” Che noted.

“Just because I haven’t seen a Temple healer in over two decades, doesn’t mean I haven’t seen any healers.”

When Bail had first recruited her, he’d insisted that she be seen by Queen Breha's royal physician. He was the only doctor Bail trusted with the knowledge of her true identity.

She’d visited Dr. Alde a few times after that, but going to Alderaan was always risky, and even without her aversion to med centers, she had been reluctant to see him regularly.

“Hmm.” Che hummed eyes narrowed as she observed the Master. “How many concussions have you had?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember.” At Che's concerned frown, Ashla hurried to explain. “Not because of memory lapses. More like I stopped counting.”

“That is not as reassuring as you think it is.” Ashla winced. “Have you had any of the following symptoms: short term memory loss, emotional instability, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and/or difficulties thinking, planning and carrying out tasks?”

“No.”

“Surprising, but good. I-" A beep indicating that the scans were done processing cut off the rest of the healer’s words. She grabbed her pad and opened the full-body scan and stared at the results.

And stared.

And stared.

And then stared some more.

“How in the name of the Force are you still alive?”

“Bacta?” She responded with a crooked grin.

Vokara took a deep breath in and held. When she released it came out sounding almost like a growl.

“You’re going on the list.”

“The list?” Ashla asked confused.

“After every mission, you’re to report to the halls so that your injuries may be properly treated.”

“And if I wasn’t injured?” Ashla asked.

She raised a brow and looked pointedly at the data pad in her hand. Ashla barely suppressed an eye roll. She wasn’t _that_ bad. Not like Master Obi-Wan had been.

“I don’t care if you’re running an expense report to the Senate. You report here when you’re done.” Healer Che ordered.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” She protested.

“If you try to skip a post-mission exam, I _will_ hunt you down. I _will_ find you, and I _will_ drag you back here. _Sedated_ if need be.”

She was as bad as the clone medics. Worse probably.

“Understand?”

“Yes. But I-”

“Good.” Che cut off. “Now, we’re going to discuss the disaster that is your body. And there’s a lot so we’re just going to start at the top and work our way down.”

“Your brain scans came back normal. Which is good. Though I’m still concerned about the possibility of CTE developing. Instead of the annual full examination, I think we’ll put you on the biannual rotation. Just to keep an eye out for any symptoms. In the mean time, do _try_ not to sustain anymore concussions.”

“I can try.” Ashla assented.

“Hmm. There is scarring around the cochlea bone, but not as much as I feared. Another thing to keep an eye on but nothing too distressing there. The fractures in your extremities and ribs, though numerous, all seem to have healed properly. You do have a significant amount of scarring on your left scapula, though your surgeon must have been very skilled.” Che detailed.

“They were.” King Dendup had insisted on only the best surgeon in Iziz as a thank you for helping free his people. “I have full strength and complete range of motion in my shoulder. Though it aches when it rains and has been known to go numb when I sleep.”

“May I ask how you acquired the injury?” Healer Che inquired.

“Oh, I was shot.”

“By what?”

“A cannon.”

“You got shot by a _cannon_?”

“It was only a medium range cannon turret.”

“Cannons are designed to take out _vehicles_. I’m surprised you still have your arm.”

“Guess it wasn’t that great of a cannon then.”

“We're just going to moving on, and talk about some good news. You have no internal organ damage. Which is frankly surprising. Your muscle mass is above average. Bone density is good. Your heart rate and blood pressure are both excellent. Cholesterol levels are great. No vitamin deficiencies. No infections or diseases. Despite your penchant for trying to get yourself killed, you are perfectly healthy.”

“Well, that’s always good to hear.” Ashla said.

Healer Che looked back to the pad, and Ashla watched as confusion grew on the Twilek's face.

“You have antibodies for the Blue Shadow virus?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

“You… _forgot_? How do you forget… the Blue Shadow virus has been eradicated for nearly two centuries.”

“There was a scientist that took issue with that and decided to… uneradicated it.”

Vokara Che stared.

Ashla smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough. Your response has been incredible.
> 
> Shout out to curiousbluepencil, not only for the ideas you gave me, but also your amazingly detailed and eloquent comments. 
> 
> A couple notes below that you can skip if you want but, I recommend reading them. 
> 
> I played around with the canon ages a bit. So for reference, Depa Billaba and Kit Fisto are about 22ish. Luminara is 15 almost 16. Garen is 14. Obi-Wan and Quinlan are both 13. And Bant is 12. I know Depa and Kit are a bit old to be hanging around teenagers, but I feel like once they reach padawan age it's not as big a deal for the Jedi as it is for normal people. And while Depa and Kit are friends with the younger ones, they are still a bit separated from them because of their responsibilities. I see them being closer to Luminara and Garen than the others. I feel like they'd view the others more like your friends kid-sibling that you always end up begrudgingly hanging out with, but kinda secretly enjoy being around.
> 
> I'm not a doctor so anything in the healer scene that doesn't make sense you can either ignore or chalk it up to sci-fi nonsense medicine and weird alien biology. 
> 
> I looked up the diagram of the ship that shot Ahsoka/Ashla in the Onderon arc because I didn't think it was a regular blast that hit her, but I wanted to be sure. The diagram listed the turret as a medium cannon. I called it medium range cannon because I thought it sounded better. 
> 
> Which can we just talk about how much of a BAMF she is? She takes a cannon to the shoulder. A cannon. And the next arc with the younglings, you can actually see at the very begin of the episode a white substance covering her shoulder. Likely a bacta gel or something. Or maybe even healing tissue. So they sent her to escort the younglings because she was healing and couldn't yet rejoin the 501st. It was supposed to be a simple mission and then everything happened. So when she fights Grievous at the end of the arc, she was dealing with an injured shoulder, had defeated Hondo's gang only to be captured, knocked unconscious, likely beaten, and definitely starved and given no water for an extended period of time. And she still held her own against Grievous. I mean, he was winning, but still. Grievous has killed Masters that were at full health. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought. Or if you have anything you want to see, tell me and I'll see if I can work it in. Thanks again!


	5. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cin wants to adopt baby Obi-Wan.
> 
> Healers advocate for therapy.
> 
> Ashla thinks she's living in the tech stoneage.
> 
> Yoda is a troll.
> 
> And Plo is soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Master Drallig watched as his class of initiates preformed their warm-up stretches. Though the class had yet to start, he was pleased to see that everyone was already here. Everyone that is, except Initiate Kenobi. Which was odd, considering the boy’s unfailing punctuality.

Obi-Wan had been under a great deal of stress lately. Some of it self-inflicted. But most of it situational. So, it worried him to see the youngling deviating from his routine. Cin just hoped it wasn’t a sign the boy was finally cracking under the pressure.

He only had a week to find himself a master, and he couldn’t do that if he was coming apart at the seams. Honestly, Cin would’ve taken him as his padawan months ago if it wasn’t for the fact, he already had one.

Obi-Wan had his issues, Cin would admit. He was brash and impulsive and sometimes he let his anger get the best of him. But Cin believed these would temper with age. He always did well in his studies and while rough around the edges, he was undoubtedly one of the best duelists of his age group.

The boy had a lot of potential and it’d be a shame to lose that simply because no one wanted to train him. Cin knew that Master Yoda was trying to convince Qui-Gon to take on the boy, but he’d made his intent to never train another padawan very clear. And after a year of constant needling the stubborn master had only seemed to dig himself deeper into his conviction. To the point he’d practically buried his head in the sand.

He personally thought that if Yoda was that invested in Obi-Wan’s training, he should take him on himself. But the little green master insisted he was too old to take on another padawan.

Movement at the door caught his attention and he was relieved to see Obi-Wan entering the room. Reassuringly, Cin noted that even though he had bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep, he didn’t appear to be too worn out or emotional. In fact, he mostly seemed confused. Actually, Cin himself was a bit confused at the sight of the convor perched on the boy's arm.

Obi-Wan caught his eye, and the youngling straightened his already perfect posture before making his way over. He gave a bow, doing his best to keep his right arm level to the ground as he did so.

“Apologies for my tardiness, Master Drallig. I was delayed.” He said.

“I take it the delay has something to do with the bird currently perched on your arm?” Cin asked.

“Yes. I was headed here when I found her in the hall alone. I thought she might be Master Jinn’s, so I took her to him.” He explained.

“Given that you still have the bird, I’m going to assume it wasn’t Master Jinn’s?” Cin asked.

“Master Yoda said it was Master Ultio’s. But that she was with the healers. He told me to look after her until Master Ultio was done. Whenever that might.” The boy continued and Cin tried to think if he knew a Master Ultio.

“Practicing your katas will be a bit difficult with a bird on your arm. Did Master Yoda know you were headed to this class?” Cin asked.

“Yes.”

Cin held in a sigh. Yoda was the wisest and most revered Jedi in the Order. He was also a massive troll.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t get the bird to perch on a tree for the hour you’re here.” After that it would be Master Leem’s problem.

“Alright.” Obi-Wan agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced it would work.

Ignoring the stares of the other initiates, they moved over to the small potted tree in the far corner. Obi-Wan held his arm out to the largest branch and waited. The convor barely glanced at the tree, instead choosing to remain seated on his arm.

“Go on then. I’ve got class right now. I can’t hold you while I practice my katas. I might hit you with my ‘saber.” Obi-Wan encouraged, softly nudging its side to coax it into the tree. The bird hooted, but otherwise remained unmoved by the boy’s words.

Cin, not wanting to waste anymore class time, reached out and gently grabbed the bird, intending to place it on the tree manually. She _did not_ appreciate that. Squawking loudly, she flitted her wings wildly, managing to catch Cin in the face a few times before he let go. When he did, she released her hold on Obi-Wan’s arm and lifted herself above them a couple of feet, only to settle back down, this time on Obi-Wan’s head.

“Well,” Cin said. “at least now you have both arms free.”

********************

Vokara found Master Salihn standing before Knight Di’s bacta tank. The Chief Healer’s brown facial tattoos were scrunched together by his furrowed brow as he concentrated on the readings displayed by the tank’s console. Initial submersion into a bacta tank was a delicate process. Many assumed that you just plopped the person in and waited. It was, in all actuality a far more complex procedure than that.

You first had to ensure that all the equipment was attached properly and operating correctly. The mask needed to be tight enough that none of the liquid could leak through and drown the patient. You also had to be sure that it was supplying enough oxygen that they wouldn’t suffocate.

If the submersion was to last longer than twenty-four standard hours, a feeding tube was needed to provide nutrients and any additional drugs needed for the healing process. A catheter would then be equipped to collect the waste that the body would create. Done incorrectly and you risked the waste leaking into the bacta, contaminating it.

The bacta itself had to be properly prepared. You never submerged a patient in pure bacta. It needed to be diluted to the correct concentration depending on the severity of the injury, the species, age, sex, height and weight, and the patient’s medical history.

On top of all of that, the sensors that monitored the patient’s vitals had to be secure. If they slipped off, the healers might not get the correct readings and they might not be notified if something went wrong.

With this in mind, Vokara waited for Master Salihn to finish his current step of the process before clearing her throat to make herself known. Though he’d undoubtedly felt her presence when she’d entered the room, it was still common courtesy.

“Vokara.” The older Zabrak addressed, glancing up from his work.

“Master.” She greeted. “How did Knight Di’s surgery go?”

“There were a few stubborn pieces of shrapnel that gave us a fit to remove, but overall, it went well.” He said, noting something down on a chart.

“How long do you think he’ll need to be submerged?” She asked.

“At least a ten-day. No more than two, I think. But only time will tell.” He answered.

“That’s good.”

Ima-Gun was a common sight here in the halls, having an unfortunate penchant for obtaining injuries wherever he went. He wasn’t clumsy per say, danger just seemed to follow the kind but quiet Nikto. He was honestly her favorite patient. Always obedient and respectful towards the healers. Unlike so many other Jedi.

“How did your examination go?” Salihn asked, adjusting a dial.

“It was…” She hesitated, trying to find the right descriptor before finally settling on, “…interesting.”

“Interesting?” He raised a tattooed brow. “How so?” He asked.

In response, Vokara handed him a datapad with Master Ultio’s file open. He gave her a look but took the pad anyway. As he read through the information, she watched his face shift from curious to concerned before finally settling into incredulous. She could tell the exact moment he reached the part about the Blue Shadow Virus. If he’d had eyebrows, they would have hit his horns.

“This is…”

“Yeah.”

“Can she even walk?” He asked.

“Seemed pretty spry to me, when she practically bolted from the room once I told her the exam was over.” She said.

“Did you put her on the list?” He asked.

“Of course.” Almost offended he’d think she wouldn’t put someone with a medical history like _that_ on the list.

“I know Shadows’ lives are dangerous, but… just what in the name of the Force did the Council have her doing?” He asked.

“I don’t think I even _want_ to know.” She replied, taking the pad back.

“What was your opinion of her mental state?” He inquired.

“It’s hard to say after spending such a short amount of time with her, but she appeared mostly stable. If a little uneasy in a medical setting. Though she didn’t seem to have a problem discussing her injuries themselves nor the events surrounding them.” She said.

“I don’t know if we should be reassured or more worried by her apparent nonchalance.” He stated.

“Both?” She replied. “It’s a good thing she’s not a complete mess, flinching at everything that moves or crying in a corner rocking back and forth. But if she’s bottling up and repressing her experiences then that’s not healthy either. I think it may be wise to have a mind-healer give her an examination.” She recommended.

“While I agree with you, I doubt the Council will. You know how they get with Shadows and anything related to their missions. And Master Windu seemed particularly cagey about this one. They won’t back us if we order her to take an evaluation unless she shows obvious signs of self-harm or harmful tendencies towards others.”

“I don’t like that you’re right.” Vokara was only a healer of the body and not the mind, but she’d seen far too many in her halls falling apart at the seams. The Council only took mental health seriously once it was too late. Releasing one’s emotions into the Force could only do so much. At some point a professional was needed.

“We can approach the idea with her the next time she comes in.” He tried to placate his strong-willed mentee.

“I doubt she’d be willing to see a mind-healer voluntarily.” Few Jedi were willing. And the ones that tended to need it the most, the ones that had experienced extreme trauma were usually even less so.

“Still, we can ask. Until then all we can do is watch her for signs.”

***************

Once free of the prodding attention of Healer Che, Ashla had made her way to the Quartermaster to gather supplies. She’d arrived here with only the clothes on her back, her lightsabers and the handful of items that had been in the satchel she’d worn. Not the worst circumstances she’d ever found herself in, the ordeal on Wasskah coming to mind, but still rather limited.

After an hour of rooting through the storerooms, she’d taken her haul of mechanical and technical parts and tools back to her new quarters. She now sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the low table in the living space. Spread before her in pieces were her datapads and comms. The devices the Council had provided her were high-tech and expertly encrypted, the best on the market.

The best for _this era_ that is. Coming from sixtyish years in the future, Ashla felt the tech was awfully outdated and unsecure. Luckily, she had plenty of experience modifying outdated tech. The Rebellion hadn’t exactly had the largest budge. Even with Bail’s funding.

She’d gathered enough spare parts to assemble a few long-range transmitters, some physical key encryptions, a handful of bugs, and a bug detector. As well as enough parts to modify the devices she already had. Especially the comm unit built into her vambrace. Enabling it to communicate with older comms, without sacrificing security was going to be a challenge.

Security was her top priority. Ashla doubted that the Sith had cracked the Jedi’s encryptions, but a lifetime of war and espionage had taught her to error on the side of caution when it came to data safety. After all, information would be the key to defeating the Sith.

Sure, she could dash off to Naboo right now and try to assassinate Sidious. As her younger self likely would’ve wanted to do. But there was no guarantee she was strong enough to defeat him by herself. Maybe not even with the whole might of the council there. It was the chosen one’s destiny after all. Anakin's destiny. And even if she succeeded, it still left Sidious' Master at large.

Darth Plagueis had been killed by Sidious shortly before the invasion of Naboo. But little else was known of the man. The New Republic’s intelligence hadn’t even discovered his title until months after they’d reclaimed Coruscant. When the Imperials had realized their imminent defeat, they’d done their best to destroy the records held within the Emperor’s Palace. What little records had survived the purge, had been sparse and vague in their mentions of the Sith Master. Ashla also suspected that much of Sidious’ true database had been housed off-world in a secret vault that only he knew of.

No, Ashla would need to find Plagueis before she could act. Otherwise, he would just replace his lost apprentice. And while she doubted, he’d be able to find one as powerful as Sidious, there was always the possibility they could actually be worse.

She needed a plan. And to craft a plan she needed information. Information that could not land itself in the wrong hands. So, here she was.

A chime came from the door, distracting her, and she reached out with her senses to see who was there. _Plo_. She stood, crossing the room quickly.

*************

Holding a carefully wrapped package in one hand, Plo Koon reached out to the door chime with the other. He stared at the plaque labeled 501 as he waited, hoping he hadn’t disturbed her. Last night had been long, and while she’d been in a meditative trance most of the night while the Council debated, he wouldn’t blame her if she’d decided to sleep the day away. Falling over half a century into the past did not sound like a fun experience.

He felt her reach out with the Force. Not asleep then. Ensuring his shields were lowered enough that she could sense his presence, he felt a spike of emotion traveled across their bond. Happiness, he was pleased to note was the prevalent feeling, though there was still a thin ring of grief surrounding it.

The door swished open revealing Master Ultio. Her smile was warm. Warmer than he’d expected, given her rather severe demeanor earlier. He wondered how much of that was due to the nature of their discussion and how much had been because of her opinions of the Council.

He gave himself a brief moment to take in the rest of her without her white cloak obscuring things. She was lean, but by no means would he call her slight. Her sleeveless top displayed sharply defined muscles, and Plo was reminded of the moment when she’d flipped over Master Tiin. This woman, despite her current warmth, was a hardened warrior.

“Master Ultio.” He said, bowing his head in greeting. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all, Master Plo.” She returned. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping we could speak.”

“Of course. Please, come in.” She said, stepping to the side and gesturing him in. He noticed her left vambrace was missing.

Her apartment itself wasn’t much different from his or any other Jedi Master's. The same tan stone walls and grey durasteel fixtures. The layout was relatively similar, with the main room, a mixture of kitchen, dining and living space, and three doors on the left side. One room for Master Ultio and another for any Padawans she may take. The middle door likely leading to the refresher.

It was missing the usual decorations, however.

Jedi didn’t have many possessions, as was their nature, but they still had needs, and the Temple was their home. So, while they didn’t decorate their apartments with lavish textiles and priceless relics, it wasn’t uncommon for Jedi to decorate quarters to their comfort level. Religious artifacts or items of cultural importance were common décor.

Master Ultio’s room had none of those, being almost completely bare. It was to be expected, given her lack of possessions when she’d landed before the council. He would’ve thought she had yet to visit the quartermaster if it wasn’t for the pile of electrical and mechanical parts covering the low table and the floor surrounding it. Among the mess of parts, he spotted the missing vambrace.

“I brought you a welcome home gift.” He said, extending the package out to her.

She took the box with a grateful smile, pulling the strings loose and unwrapping the plain brown paper covering it. When she lifted the lid, he watched her features soften. Her eyes grew watery as she gently stroked the top of the grey and white tea set within. The touch was delicate. Reverent almost.

She set the gift softly on the counter before turning back to address him, voice thick.

“Thank you. I… would… would you mind if I gave you a hug right now?”

Sensing her need, he responded by stepping forward and enveloping her into his arms. Her face nuzzled into his neck, a slight dampness following. They stood there clinging to one another. She was a stranger to him, but he was obviously someone important to her. And though she had survived the purge, he had a feeling he had not. So, he gave her what comfort he could. Comfort she likely hadn’t received in decades.

It was sometime later, before she pulled away. Clearing her throat and subtly trying to dry the tears his robes hadn’t caught.

“Tea?” She asked, moving to the pottery that had been the catalyst of her breakdown.

“Yes, please.”

Wanting to give her space to recollect herself, he settled himself down in one of the few free spots surrounding her low table. Every piece of tech they’d given her, she seemed to have taken apart and was in the process of putting back together, heavily modified. There were also several devices she appeared to have crafted from scratch. He was impressed.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing?” He asked, gesturing to the table.

“Upgrades.” She said over her shoulder. “Those devices might be high-tech to you, but they’re practically ancient compared to what I’m used to.”

It was a fair point. Sixty years was a long time in the tech world. Clearing space for the tea pot, Ashla joined him. She set the table but didn’t serve the tea yet. The leaves needing time to steep.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” She asked.

“We share a bond.” He stated.

“We do.” She affirmed. “Though you were not my Master if that was what you were wondering.”

“I’d thought not.” He said. “Are you of my lineage?”

“No.” She informed, and likely guessing his next question, continued. “You were the one who found me. Brought me to the Temple.”

_Ah_. That explained somethings. There was a reason he wasn’t assigned very many seeker missions anymore. He tended to become… attached. Doubly so in Ashla’s case, apparently.

“There was a time that I believed you would choose me as a Padawan.”

“Why didn’t I?” He asked.

“The War began.” She answered. “And then Master Yoda decided that a young, reckless, _snippy_ ” She smiled faintly. “padawan would be the perfect match for my young, reckless, and easily attached Master. To this day, I still don’t know if he was trying to teach him a lesson, or if he simply thought it hilarious how much trouble the two of us caused.”

“Hmm. Probably the later. Yoda is far more devious than he lets on.” Plo said, a smile beneath his mask.

“He really is.” She said, reaching to serve the tea.

Plo took out a specialized straw and attached it to his breathing apparatus, before taking his first tentative sip. Pleased with the taste and temperature he took a larger one.

“I was also hoping to discuss the events leading up to your departure.” He said.

Ashla sighed lightly, placing her cup on the table but keeping it clasped between her hands.

“If you are uncomfortable discussing the details of the ordeal then I will not push you. But I would like to understand.”

She shook her head. “No. No. I don’t mind. It’s just…” She trailed off, looking out the window at the Coruscanti skyline. “There was a bombing. In one of the Temple hangers. It killed eight soldiers, twelve civilians, and six Jedi. Wounded… dozens more.”

“This was the crime you were accused of?” He asked. Surprised that they had felt one of their own could do such a terrible thing. Especially one as bright as Ashla.

“Yes. Security around the Temple has always been tight, but at the height of war like we were, it’d never been stricter. To be able to pull it off… Master Yoda feared a Jedi might have been involved. My master and I had been off world on assignment and because of our lengthy absence before the bombing, he recalled us to conduct the investigation. We discovered that the bomb, made up nano-droids had been inside one of the civilian worker’s bloodstream. Eventually our trail lead back to his wife, who’d apparently snuck the droids into her husband’s dinner one night. Then detonated them when he got to work, the next day.” She explained.

“If the culprit was found, how did you end up with the blame?”

“After she was arrested, she refused to talk. Said she would only speak to Ahsoka Tano. Alone. Which was strange because the first time we'd met had been when we arrested her. Confused, but intrigued, the Council acquiesced to her request. So, I entered her interrogation room alone.” She paused here to stare into her cup, watching the cooling liquid as she swirled it around. “She confessed that she’d done it, but at the orders of a Jedi. She said she was scared. I tried to reassure her. Get her to tell me who. But before she could, she was force choked to death.”

“Given that you were the only one in the room, you were held accountable.” He deduced.

“Yes.”

“But what about the cell’s audio recordings?” He asked. “Surely the conversation would not have matched up with her murder.”

“The audio was _mysteriously_ not working.” She drained her cup before continuing. “At first it was assumed that I’d killed her as revenge for what she had done. But I ended up walking into a trap. An escape attempt and several adventures in the undercity later, I’d supposedly killed several prison guards, been seen associating with an ex-separatist assassin, and been found next to a pile of nano droids. They assumed that I was-”

“Tying up loose ends.” Plo interjected. He could easily see where someone might jump to those conclusions. But there were also holes in that version of the events. Things that should have been questioned and investigated before she was ever charged, let alone went to trial.

“I never got a trial with the Council of Reconciliation. Instead, the High Council conducted the trial. It lasted five minutes.”

“ _Five minutes_?” He asked, his usually calm voice coming out strained. Not only had they ignored their own protocol, they’d completely botched her trial, if it could even be called that. Was there even any evidence discussed and debated?

“I was expelled and tried in the Senate as a civilian.” She continued. “The trial did not go well. If it hadn’t been for my Master, well…”

“ _How_?” How could they condemn one of their own, a _padawan_ to such a fate? How could they have failed, _fallen_ so far?

“The Sith set the perfect trap. And the Jedi, blinded as they were walked right into it.” Her tone was softer than the biting one she’d used with the Council. He didn’t know if he deserved that.

“We have much to learn.” He said, trying to regain his balance.

“Yes. But now we have time.”

They sat in silence a while. Ashla refilling their cups as he thought over the events.

“Who was the true mastermind behind the bombing?” He asked after a while. “The wife had said it was a Jedi, but… was it the Sith?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I doubt the Sith had any direct involvement with my setup, though I wouldn’t be surprised to learn if they’d influenced matters. I do know for fact that they did manipulate things concerning my trial. I believe it was more a case of taking advantage of an opportunity.” She explained.

“If not the Sith?”

“She was a Jedi. Recently knighted. She… had been my friend.”

Force! To go through all that and at the end find out it was your _friend_. As terrible as this ordeal must have been, he was beginning to suspect it was only the tip of the iceberg of what Ashla had faced.

“At the trial, when she confessed, she said ‘That the Jedi are the ones responsible for the War. That we'd so lost our way that we had become villains in the conflict, that we were the ones that should be put on trial.’ She said that ‘Her attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi had become: an army fighting for the dark side, fallen from the Light that they once held so dear. That Republic was failing. It was only a matter of time.’"

Plo took in those words, but Ashla wasn’t yet finished.

“My friend was wrong about a lot of things. She let her anger cloud her judgement and she tried to justify her actions without considering their wider effects. She was afraid of the war and she didn't trust people she should've listened to. But she had a point about the Republic and the Jedi. There was something wrong with them, and we were too locked into our traditions to see what it was. She should've done something else. She shouldn't have killed anyone, and she definitely shouldn't have framed me for it, but if we'd listened to her—really listened—we might have been able to stop the Sith before they took power."

“I’m sorry for her betrayal.” Plo said resting a hand on top of hers.

“So am I.” She squeezed his larger hand tight.

“And I am sorry for the decisions the Council made that day.”

“I know you are.” Her eyes held his and he felt the warm _faith_ in _him_ through their bond. “Which is why I want you to know that the Council’s decision was not unanimous. That though I never knew the final tally, I do truly believe you were one of the dissenting votes.”

“Thank you.” He intoned.

It didn’t rid him of all the guilt he felt. But it helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I know this took a while, (again), but I hope the wait was worth it. Still not sure how I feel about the chapter, so let me know what you thought about it the comments below.
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> Knight Ima-Gun Di, was only in one episode of the Clone Wars. His name, if said fast is I'ma gonna die. Because he dies in the episode. 
> 
> In case anyone is wondering, this won't be a therapy fic. I may or may not have a few chapters where a character either goes to therapy or discusses it. (b/c let's be real, they all really need it) but I'm not planning on making it a main thing of the story if I do include anything. Mostly because, I don't want that kind of story, but also because my knowledge in mental health is very little and I feel I wouldn't do it justice. If you do like therapy fics, there is a really great series called Force of Many Insights, starting with Hindsight is Not Perfect.
> 
> Some of the text of the last section is from the Wrong Jedi arc and one paragraph is a slightly tweaked excerpt from E.K. Johnson's Ahsoka novel. Definitely recommend checking that out. The audio book for it is also amazing. And voiced by Ashley Eckstein herself.
> 
> Kudos to anyone who can spot the Pirates of the Caribbean reference.


End file.
